Her Name is Alice formerly 'Feed Your Head'
by sparx539
Summary: She was Alice, yet she wasn't. She remembered what the Dormouse had said, though. She remembered people and places she didn't know. And, above all else, Alice Lydell, that silly girl, remembered him. 'Alice'/Tarrant Hightopp NAME/TITLE CHANGE!
1. Prologue: Another Alice

A/N: And here I find myself, once again. ::laughs:: I've become quite obsessed with our dear Tarrant, and this little bunny decided to take up residence in my head. I do ask for all to be patient with the updates (college student, writing during the last few weeks of her semester), but I'll try to update soon-ish. I've rated M for later chapters, and to be on the safe side. Also: I don't own anything besides the Lydells, so please, don't sue. I do ask for some R&R'ing (concrit is appreciated, flames are used to make tea :D), and otherwise, I give you the prologue to this quite out-of-no-where story. Cheers!

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Prologue: Another Alice

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The rain kept pelting the windows, the torrents sounding like gunshots against the aged glass. Thunder raged, keeping pace with the echoing screams of the woman next door; the lightening brightening the room in brief spurts, illuminating the old woman resting on the bed. Candles burned on every available surface; the power had gone out hours before, _a terrible thing for a time like this_, Charlie Lydell couldn't help thinking. His wife was in labor just the next room over, screaming her head off at the midwife, while his grandmother lay deathly still in the bed next to him.

"Grandmum, please…you have to stay just a bit longer," he pleaded, watching the frail old woman's eyelids flutter softly. She'd been in and out of consciousness all night, and he was worried this would be it. What a night—his grandmother leaving him, just as his youngest came into the world. He gripped the small hand of the elderly woman in his, eyes watering. "Please, Grandmum. You need to help Anna with the little one. Who else will teach them about Wonderland, and fill their head with imagination?"

"Underland, darling," the old woman whispered, her eyes opening slowly. "It's called Underland. And I'm sure your Anna will manage without me." She grinned softly, a twinkle in her blue eyes. "I've told you all those stories so many times already…"

"Tell me another one, Grandmum, just this last time?" Charlie's voice was just above a whisper, and he sat on the very edge of the bed. He strained to hear his grandmother's soft voice over the claps of thunder and Anna's wailing. "Tell me the one about Frabjous Day, when the Wonderland Champion felled the Jabberwocky?"

"Ah, your favorite, and mine as well. Since you've asked so nicely, my dear Charlie, Grandmother will tell you this last story." She closed her eyes briefly, catching her breath. When they opened again, they held the far-away look they always held when she told him the imaginary stories of the lovely Wonderland, full of its special creatures and people.

"On the Frabjous Day, the White and Red Queens sent forth their champions to do battle for Underland. The Red Queen favored the Jabberwocky, a great behemoth of a dragon-looking terror, with terrible eyes and a wicked tail. The White Queen, however, put her faith in a little girl, no bigger than your shoulder, with blonde curls and not much 'muchness'. The two champions fought fiercely, just as did the armies of the Queens, and their dear friends. All hope seemed to be lost for a small moment, before that little girl managed to overcome that terrible Jabberwocky, and take its head clean off!"

She paused a moment to smile, before a cough, wet and hacking, burst forth. Next door, Anna gave another wail, causing the light in the old woman's eyes to dim. "It was a lovely day, filled with triumph. But the White Queen's champion couldn't stay much longer; she had people back home, in the Overland, who needed her help. She bade goodbye to all her friends, promising to return. She even almost stayed, when her very best friend, a very mad Hatter, asked her to. But still, she drank from a vial of Jabberwocky blood, and came straight home. Nothing there had changed, but the champion herself had. She had regained her muchness, you know, and was ready to create new adventures for herself."

Charlie gave a teary smile as his grandmother once again fell silent. "I still love your fairy tales, Grandmum. It's almost like they're real, no matter how mad they sound." He watched as her eyes closed once again, even as she chuckled. For a brief second, it sounded like the rain had stopped, and even Anna had fallen quiet in the next room.

"Ah, my boy. But how very real they are. Your Grandmum isn't a _very_ mad old woman, though she would argue that." Another chuckle, even softer this time. "Your Grandmum is only mad because she left such a lovely place, and an even lovelier man." A deep sigh. "Tarrant…how I wish you would forgive me…"

"Hush, Grandmum," Charlie whispered, tears falling freely now. "You shouldn't speak so…you're not mad…Grandmum?"

"Yes, Charles dear?"

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

At that, his grandmother gave a weak laugh. "I never did find out, love. Tarrant would be so upset with me, never finding out after all these years…" She gripped Charlie's hand tighter. "Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…" she began, Charlie taking up the next line of his favorite childhood lullaby.

"How I wonder where you're at. Up above the world you fly, like a tea-tray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…"

"How…I wonder…where you're at…oh, my Tarrant…oh, Underland…"

Charles released the hand in his gently, hearing Anna's anguished cry from the next room, echoing it with a quiet sob of his own. Another scream, now followed by a small, shrill cry, met his ears. The midwife's assistant bustled into the room.

"Mr. Lydell…it's a girl. A lovely little thing. Your wife has asked you to name her?"

Charles nodded softly, standing up and wiping his eyes. "Yes, yes of course." He gave one last look to the still woman on the bed, before turning back to the assistant. "Her name is Alice. Please, name her Alice."

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A/N: Well? I hope I've piqued your curiosity. ::wink:: There is plenty more to come, so please R&R--it does feed my ego so nicely. :D Also--yes, the title refers to the song by Jefferson airplane, "white Rabbit"; a song I love dearly, though it scares me half to death. ::laugh:: 'till we meet again, dear ones, fairfarren! I'll be back soon with chapter one!


	2. Interlude 1: The Strange Case

A/N: Hello all! ::wave:: I'm excited that I've as many reviews/story alerts as I did with just a prologue chapter! This chapter isn't much more than another bit of prologue, but it does have the set-up needed for the story. As always, I don't own anything besides the Lydells/etc.

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Interlude 1: The Mysterious Case of Miss Alice Johanna Lydell, as recounted by, and to, Dr. Avery Smith, Regression Specialist

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_19 Years Ago (Alice, age 3)_

_It had been a long day at the fairgrounds, and the entire Lydell family was looking forward to some rest. After all, parenting five sons and a rambunctious, curious little daughter was quite the feat, even without the added excitement of the local summer carnival. Anna Lydell clutched her daughter Alice to her chest, trying to soothe her as they made their way into the house. Alice had been quietly crying for several minutes, though Anna couldn't fathom why. _

"_Mummy, I wanna go home!" the three-year-old sobbed, rubbing at her eyes with chubby fists. Anna sighed deeply, a hand smoothing down Alice's wild dark hair._

"_But Alice, luv, we are home…" Her statement was met with a fiercely trembling lip, and a larger torrent of tears. Little eyes, full of confusion, stared back at her own. _

"_Mummy, no, not this home! I wanna go home-home!" The sweet voice of her daughter was full of irritation and confusion, just as it was every time they had this conversation. It had begun almost as soon as Alice could string together full sentences—and always, she was asking to go "home". But where, exactly, was this home she kept begging for?_

_Alice began to cry more ferociously, her sobs growing in earnest at her mother's inability to understand. Why couldn't she just understand that this wasn't really home? There was something just off about the whole place, though the toddler barely understood it; she couldn't make her mother see just why she was so upset._

_Charles Lydell slipped an arm around his wife, his own eyes full of worry. He had to do something to help his daughter, and the rest of his family._

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_17 Years Ago (Alice, age 5)_

_The man with the beard had given Alice a piece of paper and some crayons, with the request she draw him something to put up on his wall. The child had nodded eagerly, excited about her assignment. Satisfied that she was distracted enough, Dr. Smith turned to the child's mother._

"_Ma'am, I think what we're seeing here is a case of 'past life regression'."_

"_What?" Mrs. Lydell was baffled. The doctor had come highly recommended due to his high success rate with children, but really? Past-life regression, reincarnation—all these new terms were making her head spin. "What exactly do you mean, doctor?"_

"_Your daughter…is experiencing memories from a 'past life', a previous reincarnation. It isn't scientific fact, but it is the most plausible explanation I have for what she is experiencing." He pulled her glasses off his face, before wiping them on his shirt. "Because she is so young, her mind is unable to realize the difference between what was then, and what is now. Usually, cases are never this severe, even for children in her age group. Tell me—did anything significant happen the night she was born?"_

_Anna paused, trying to remember. "Ah, well…it was a rainy night. My husband, Charles, wasn't in the same room; we had an at-home birth, you see, like we did with all our children, but his grandmother was sick and so Charles was at her bedside instead of mine. She had come to stay with us after her husband, Charles' grandfather Terrence, had passed away the winter before. She had seemed fine, until my last month of pregnancy, when she fell so ill she was constantly bedridden"_

"_His grandmother was ill while you were in labor? Tell me, did she pass that same night?"_

"_Yes, within minutes of Alice being born, actually. We named her after her great-grandmother because of the sad event, and also since she was the first female Lydell born in generations, even since Grandmum Alice married into the family name. You don't think—?"_

"_I do, Mrs. Lydell. I believe your daughter is, pardon my terminology, the reincarnation of her great-grandmother. This is possibly why it is so hard for her to understand which memories are hers, and which are not—she had no time to build her own memories as a barrier, or separation, against those of the elder Alice. Mrs. Lydell, is you daughter anything like her great-grandmother?"_

_Anna sighed, sitting back in her chair. This was all too much information. "She is very much like Grandmum Alice. The same mannerisms, the same wild imagination. Doctor, how long will my daughter be forced to deal with this?"_

"_Many children outgrow the symptoms before puberty; very few cases require therapy, though I suggest we try a bit with Alice now, to ease the transition of her memories. Remember though, Mrs. Lydell, your Alice cannot tell the difference yet between what she has really seen an experienced, and what is merely an old memory." He rested a heavy hand on Anna's shoulder. "You must learn to understand."_

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_12 Years Ago (Alice, age 10)_

_Dr. Smith clutched his yellow paper pad in clenched hands. Alice's sessions had been going well the past few months, but she had recently taken a step backward. He ran a hand over his unshaven face, sighing. "Tell me again, Alice, my dear. What is your favorite color?"_

"_Orange." Alice had yet to look up from the piece of paper she was applying watercolor to. Dr. Smith had realized early on that she responded well to art therapy, and requested at every session she draw or paint him something; her portfolio was becoming quite vast._

"_And why is orange your favorite color?"_

"_Because it's the color of Tarrant's hair."_

"_And who is Tarrant, my dear?"_

"_My best friend."_

"_But Alice, your best friend is a little girl named Maggie. Her hair is yellow, not orange. You don't know anyone named Tarrant."_

"_Yes, I do. His name is Tarrant Hightopp, and he is the Royal Hatter at Mamoreal, to the White Queen Mirana of Underland, and he is my very best friend in the entire world, next to McTwisp and Mallymkun, and Chessur, and I miss him so very much, and—"_

"_Alice!" Dr. Smith never meant to snap at the girl during her tangents, but it was really the only way to break her out of them. The girl jumped slightly, before shaking her head and looking up at him with a sheepish grin._

"_I'm fine!" she squeaked, a blush covering her cheeks. Dr. Smith merely nodded, sighing once more._

"_One last time, Alice. What is your favorite color?"_

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_7 Years Ago (Alice, age 15)_

"_Why, Mr. Lydell, your daughter is quite the artist! Tell me, where did she learn to paint like this?"_

_Her father was escorting that strange woman through the house again. Alice could hear their conversation through her closed bedroom door, and rolled her eyes in response to the woman's exclamation. Every time she came over, she was searching for some sort of explanation for Alice's ability to draw and paint the scenes she did._

"_It seems to be an innate talent, Mrs. Fleming. We simply gave her brushes and paint, and there you go!" Charles, though bragging a bit, had a rather exasperated tone. Yes, Mrs. Fleming was an old friend of his father's, but really—her forgetfulness was bothersome after awhile. _

"_And what lovely scenery! Tell me, is she inspired by anything in particular? I've never seen an actual place like this—such lush colors, and the foliage!" The elderly woman reached out to a framed painting of a lush forest, with immense trees and colorful flowers. A large toadstool sat in the middle of a clearing, a bright blue butterfly sitting upon it._

"_She claims to see them in her dreams. Dr. Smith has her paint as part of her 'past-life regression therapy'." Alice scoffed at the explanation her father gave. Yes, she saw them in her dreams, though they weren't really hers; they belonged more to her "other self", her past self. She understood this now, but it still didn't stop the constant flow of memories and dreams that confused her. _

"_Oh dear, the poor thing…so she still suffers from those extra memories?" _

"_Yes; but, Dr. Smith has seen progress over the years. She's been doing much better; he suspects she'll be able to 'forget' her past self very soon!"_

_Another scoff. As if she could do something so easy as to "forget" who she once was. She angrily brushed her hair out of her face, paint brush echoing her anger on the canvas in front of her. She clenched her eyes shut, forcing a memory to come to her—a large-headed woman, screaming as she sat upon a throne embellished with hearts. Alice forced her hand to move across the canvas, keeping pace with her thoughts. _

"_Bloody Big-Head…down with the Bloody Red Queen!"_

_As she finished, she opened her eyes, admiring her artwork. Well, if that didn't impress Mrs. Fleming into a stupor, she didn't know what would! _

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_4 Years Ago (Alice, age 18)_

_Alice looked down at her hands, admiring the bracelet her parents had given her earlier that day, as a "graduation" present. She had been done with secondary school for a few weeks now, but today was a more important graduation. Today was her final session with Dr. Smith, the day he would pronounce her "cured"; really though, both she and the doctor knew this wouldn't be the last session, nor was she "cured". She looked up at Dr. Smith, realizing she could see the changes he had undergone in the many years she'd known him._

"_Well, Alice, how do you feel today?" He beamed at the young woman before him, giving her a subtle wink. She fought back a laugh._

"_I feel…well. Excited, if I'm being truthful. I keep having those dreams though, more frequently than usual. I wish they would just stop, doctor. I understand now that these memories are not my own, and are merely memories, but really…such silly thoughts and places. I really couldn't have experienced these places, even as my other self, could I?"_

"_Alice, you know you have the power to end those dreams. You must make peace with what happened in your past, be it real or imagined. At the very least, you know that these are not your memories—you are not attached to them, other than that you continue to hold onto them."_

"_I know, doctor. But, I feel as if I can't make my peace with them, not yet. I need to do something, understand something more than what I do now. I need…to remember exactly what it is, what I forgot to do."_

"_Perhaps, Alice, you will make your peace when you realize that you cannot fix things your great-grandmother did or did not do nearly a hundred years ago."_

_She sighed, nodding slightly. "I understand. Doctor, do you at least think I've made progress over the time we've been together?"_

"_Alice, my dear, you have made immense progress. You have become a radiant, lovely young woman. Most important, though, you have learned that you are not your great-grandmother; you are Alice Lydell, and nothing more."_

_Alice felt a pang at his words, though she smiled brightly. It had been her goal this whole time, right? To be "only Alice"? Then why did it hurt so much, to be herself, and nothing more?_

----~*~----

_Yesterday (Alice, age 21)_

"_So, Alice, are you excited? I mean, acceptance to Oxford for post-grad! How exciting!"_

"_I'm very excited, Maggie. Oxford's a dream come true! And how lucky was I to be accepted at the very tail end, and with a full scholarship? My goodness, Maggie, I just don't know what to celebrate first: my birthday, the acceptance, the scholarship, the—"_

"_Alice!"_

"_I'm fine!" She could feel the tell-tale blush creeping along her cheeks bones, and was happy Maggie could only hear her. She had never outgrown her tendency to tangent, and even now the only way to break her out of it was to bark her name. _

_On the other end of the telephone line, Maggie laughed. "Silly Odd Alice, still the same after all these years! Let's hope you don't break into such a tangent at the party tomorrow!"_

_Alice laughed back, though more half-heartedly. Yes, Odd Little Alice was still the same after all these years. She was going to be twenty-two, for heaven's sake! Couldn't she have at least outgrown a few of her more embarrassing oddities? _

_As she listened to Maggie ramble on about party plans for the following afternoon, Alice gazed over her room, eyes catching on one of the paintings on her walls. It was possibly her very most favorite painting she'd ever done: a lovely tea party, set out in a clearing in front of an old mill. There weren't very many guests, just a few oddly-dressed animals and one even-odder-looking man, seated at the very head of the table. How she wished she could remember who he was, and why he was so often in her dreams, looking at her with a sad, almost heartbroken expression. _

"_Alice? Are you even listening?"_

"_Yes, Maggie, I'm listening. Just got lost there for a minute." She turned her back on the painting once more, trying to force her old memories aside. She had spent so long trying to forget, and now all she wanted to do was remember. But remember what, exactly?_

"_Alice!"_

"_I'm fine!"_

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A/N: Whew, that was a beast! But now we have our setup, and some insight into our dear Odd Little Alice. ::grin:: As always, a little R&R goes a long way with me! Hugs and kisses, and Fairfarren 'till next chapter!


	3. Very Good Advice

A/N: Yay! More reviews, and even more people adding this to their story alerts! ::claps giddily:: I apologize to those who are finding the first few chapters to be sad—I myself find them terribly sad. =( However! Things will be brightening up here soon, and our dear Tarrant will be showing up soon, within the next two chapters!

Big note—I did change the name of the fic. I wasn't enjoying the original name when I chose it, and I only had this title come to myself recently, when listening to Shinedown's "Her name is Alice". Also: this chapter (and probably others to come) has a tinge of influence from the "Almost Alice" CD (which has that Shinedown song on it); here, in particular, it's the influence of "Very Good Advice" performed by Robert Smith, probably my favorite song on the CD. 3 I suggest everyone give it a try, both for the Alice influence and for the musical talent on it!

And finally, as always, reviews make my heart bubble over with unbridled, vigorously-Futterwacking joy. =D Onward to the chapter!

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Carroll, Burton, etc. I will put the toys (characters) away when I'm done playing with them, I promise!

* * *

Chapter 1: I give myself Very Good Advice…but I very seldom follow it…

The face staring back at her looked no different than it had the day before, or the day before that, and yet, _she herself_ felt quite different. No, not "different" per se, but perhaps, "muchier"? Yes, she felt very full of "muchness" at the moment, that was it. Not different, just much muchier than she had before today.

She giggled to herself at her use of "muchness". Such a silly, delightful word! Still giggling, she turned back to her full-length mirror, examining her profile.

A hand brushed a long strand of dark hair out of her eyes, only for it to slip back as soon as she had pulled her hand away. She sighed, the puff of air barely upsetting the piece of hair. Blue eyes gazed fondly at the offending lock, before turning back to the mirror. It was undeniable, no matter if she turned this way, or that way—she looked no different than she had in the previous months of her life, yet something deep inside her begged to differ.

Alice Johanna Lydell, the youngest child and only daughter of Charles and Anna Lydell, was turning twenty-two that day, the fifth of August. If one wanted to be terribly specific, it would be at precisely eleven-twenty-three, p.m. Alice herself, however, was never one to be terribly specific, and was celebrating her birthday during the afternoon hours instead.

Alice herself hadn't planned the party; in fact, the only thing separating it from a true "surprise party" was that she knew it was happening. She hadn't helped with the planning at all, or with the guest list, and was only told to dress in a blue tea dress for the afternoon's festivities, which were taking place in the gardens of her parent's summer house. Why she was supposed to wear blue, or a tea dress for that matter, she had no idea, but she wasn't one to cross her best friend (and party planner), Margaret de Lune, who could prove to be quite formidable.

Alice still had the scars from last Mardi Gras to prove it. "Maggie the Loon" was not one to mess with, no matter how much alcohol she'd imbibed. No, scratch that—she was _especially_ not one to mess with when she'd been imbibing copious amounts of alcohol. Alice shuddered from the memory, a bead of sweat falling from her brow.

"I love you, Maggie," she muttered as she patted down the skirt of her dress, "but sometimes, I do believe you are nuttier than I am." As her skirt bounced back into its natural bell shape, Alice gave a frustrated little sigh. The blue polka-dotted cotton was refusing to flatten, despite her best attempts, and instead Alice decided to ignore it. After all, in ten minutes she'd be outside among her family and friends who had all gotten used to the sight of her in ridiculous looking clothing a very long time ago. (Alice briefly thought back on her stint in high school drama—she quite missed that lavender tutu and silver spandex tube top combination. Nearly as much as she missed the daily exposure to the best—and oddest—people she believed she'd possibly ever met.)

"Enough pondering, dear Alice," she scolded herself, wagging a finger in the direction of the mirror. "You have people to entertain! Maggie will have your head if you're late!" Lord, she sounded so much like Nivens at the moment! Her heart gave a painful wrench at the thought of the name, before it clambered back into her psyche. She had done a great deal of forgetting over the years, but when she _did_ spontaneously remember things her "other self" had experienced, it caused a funny, achy feeling in her heart. She shook her head slightly, clearing it, before she gave one final twirl in front of the mirror, smiling. She didn't even know who this Nivens person was, after all, nor should why scolding herself about being late remind her of him; and besides that, it was time to celebrate!

* * *

The garden had been decorated to mimic a Victorian tea party, complete with shimmery pastel colors and delightful china set at each table. However, Maggie had shown her true sense of "unique-ness", and instead of a string quartet or something similar, had hired a local Deejay to provide the musical entertainment. At the moment Alice wandered into the garden, the petite blonde woman was dancing by herself to a rather loud, bouncy song, her own tea dress swaying with her movements.

"Alice!" she cried upon spying her Best Female Friend from Childhood (BFFFC, or "Biffffka", if you asked Maggie), her eyes lighting up. "I was about to send out a search party, I was so worried! You _must_ learn to be on time more often, dearest!" She thrust out an arm and snagged Alice about the waist, pulling her in for a bone-crushing hug. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks…" Alice wheezed, gasping for air as she was released. She did smile, however, at the bright smile her friend wore, and at the delightful scene that surrounded her. "Maggie, you are a true visionary! I love what you did!"

"Well, I've heard you prattle on about how fun tea parties are, and I couldn't resist." Maggie clutched at Alice's arm, curling it around her own. The pair walked through the various table set-ups, greeting those they passed who also wanted to wish Alice well. "Your mother was very accommodating, I have to say. Though she wouldn't let me trim the hedges into animal shapes…"

"Maggie, I'm afraid it's because she fears you being in any close perimeter with a hedge-trimmer."

"Pish posh, I have yet to lose a body part to any sort of sharp object!"

Alice giggled, feeling younger than her twenty-some years. Maggie had always been her little ray of sunshine over the years they had known each other, being the very best friend Alice could've possibly asked for. She was truly the only one, besides Alice's own family and a few select family friends, who had been made aware of her "little problem" with past memories; Maggie had found it incredibly intriguing, and insisted she had once been the Queen of England herself (or the very last of the Tasmanian tigers, she could never really settle on a past life of her own).

Regardless, Alice had come to rely heavily on the blonde at her side, for more than just her party planning skills or her eccentricities. Maggie had stuck by her side through every year of therapy and "recovery", and had never thought her odd or strange or, as some did, an unfortunate case. She had proved time over time to be Alice's port in the storm, even to this day. Hell, she was even moving to Oxford with Alice the next week, even though she had no reason to!

"Alice!"

Blue eyes blinked furiously; Alice blushed along her cheekbones as Maggie giggled softly. "Penny for your thoughts, love?" she asked softly, clutching Alice's arm a bit tighter.

"It's nothing," Alice replied, looking about them. They had reached the far end of the garden an into the true throng of the partygoers; a mass of delightfully dressed people were sipping tea and discussing matters of their own, though the majority of eyes had fixated upon Alice as she walked into their midst. Alice froze as a wave of people stood to great her, the urge to ramble incoherently fighting with her jaw muscles, which were tightly clamped.

"Alice!"

"I'm fine!" the girl squeaked, a response she'd been using since childhood. Ignoring it, her mother swept her into her arms, smiling.

"Hello, darling." Anna Lydell beamed down at her only daughter, pride shinning in her eyes. "I can't believe you're already twenty-two; it seems that just yesterday you were making me curse your father for ever asking for another child!"

Alice laughed softly, smiling back at her mother. "And as always, I apologize for being such a bugger twenty-two years ago, though it couldn't be helped!" She hugged her mother close a second time. "I do thank you for giving birth to me, though, mum. I literally would not be here without you!"

"And then where would we all be, hmm?" Anna laughed as she pulled her daughter in tighter. "You're just as important as I am, my Alice." The older woman casually wrapped her arm around her daughter's, before steering her off towards a less populated area of the party, waving at Maggie as she did. "Come with me, Alice, there's someone who's just dying to see you!"

* * *

Alice was going to kill her mother. No, actually, she was going to kill Maggie, then her mother, and then the obnoxious man in front of her. And she'd do it slowly…terribly slowly.

Henry Abernathy drove her absolutely bonkers; it was a widely known fact that, despite their year-long romantic relationship early in college, Alice couldn't stand the man. She had once thought herself in love with him, or something close to love, but the feeling had taken a dramatic turn one day and left her completely. Perhaps it was when she had realized just how…well, _boring_, Henry was. He, however, had never gotten over the break up, as evidences by his current staring at Alice, his obnoxious grin firmly plastered on his face.

"It's so good to see you again, Alice, love," he simpered, clutching her hand in his. Alice winced at the physical contact, though it went unnoticed by Henry. "I've missed you so much since graduation. I hear you're moving to Oxford? What a coincidence! I just got accepted in to the graduate school there as well! How fortunate for us, to have a classmate—"

Alice nodded mutely as she continued to stare at Henry. She thought everyone knew she had found Henry to not be her "type" after they had gone their separate ways. Apparently, neither her mother nor Maggie understood such a concept, as Henry had revealed both women had extended invitations to him.

"Alice?"

"I'm fine," she commented offhandedly, staring at something just past his shoulder. It appeared to be a rumpled Maggie running in their direction, hair flying about.

"Henry! Alice!" Maggie was indeed running towards them, screaming their names quite loudly. Henry gave a frightened little jump as the blonde came to a stop next to the pair, panting and out of breath.

"Did I miss it, Henry?"

"Miss what?" Alice, thoroughly confused. Maggie gave a delighted squeal in response.

"I haven't missed it then! God, go on Henry and ask her!"

Alice felt her stomach start to edge downwards, towards her hips. "Ask me what? What's going on here?" She watched a blush spread over Henry's cheeks, before he stepped in front of her. He cleared his throat roughly, making Alice wince.

"Alice, I know this is rather sudden, and probably old-fashioned of myself, but I really feel right in my heart asking you this, despite our troubled past." At this, Alice froze, eyes going wide. A flood of emotions and partial memories crashed against her, sending her mind into a tailspin. Terribly enough, she _knew_ these memories, of another proposal from a rather stuffy boy, weren't hers.

"Henry, what is it you're asking of me?" She tilted her head away from him slightly, regarding him with wary eyes.

"Alice, love, I thought it was quite obvious that I was asking you to marry me…"

For a moment, and for the rest of her life she would hold to the statement, Alice could've sworn her heart stopped beating.

"I…I…" Alice froze, feeling panic rise in her chest. Why did this feel so terribly familiar? Her eyes darted to Maggie's, finding nothing but unbridled joy on the blonde's face as she waited for Alice to answer Henry.

"Well? Alice, dear, I apologize for being so forward, but I really do have strong feelings for you, as I'm sure you know." Henry pressed onward, starting to look a bit strained at Alice's silence. He gripped her upper arm and peered downward into her eyes. "Alice?"

"I'm so sorry. I need a moment."

And with that, Alice bolted like a scared rabbit, her feet taking her as far, and as fast, as they could.

* * *

A/N: Argh! Sorry it took so long with this chapter! 0__o Sadly, my mind hasn't been cooperating, so this took longer than expected. I don't care for this chapter much, so don't feel bad if you don't either; this actually took a few rewrites to get to where I was somewhat satisfied.

So, Alice is running away once again, hmm? And from another proposal to boot! (To indeed clear things up for those wondering, Alice Lydell ((this featured Alice)) is both the great-granddaughter of Alice Kingsleigh, and the reincarnation of her. Both factors will come in more as the fic wears on.

Also: don't always expect chapters this length! This one was nearly 2500 words; usually chapters will be between 1000 and 1500 or so; my mind just didn't know when to stop here, heh.

Well, enough rambling! Please review, add, etc. (those of you adding to favorites and alerts, please review too!), and 'till next time, fairfarren!


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